By the Banks of Gerisia

• Character: Orilion
• 2 years, 4 months ago

Gerisia was a nexus long before civilization came to these lands; a reservoir fed by numerous rivers and streams securing quite the bounty within its waters. Before man, it was beloved by myriad of animals-- and under cover of night or along less-traveled pathways, it very much still is.
 
 Paradoxically, as so many travel from the cities to savor beaches and seafood, to partake of pleasure cruises and learn to fish, the sacrosanct respect and appreciation for all on offer has waned. Carefully curated park experiences surround marketplaces and dockland, gradually eroding the verdant wilderness that once sprawled in all directions into mountain and valley away from Gerisia.
 
 Within this norm is a secret alluded to before, one known by critter and hermit alike: few ever stray off those curated pathways, the marked trails and the indicated overlooks. Across such border, over a few not-so-challenging boulders and around a thicket, and suddenly one is quite alone; or gifted with a remarkable sensation of such. It's in such a forested grotto, near the mouth of a crystal-clear stream, that one lone traveler has set camp for the night.
 
 As the dull waning crescent of a moon rises in the sky, its limited illumination is further fettered by the filter of diffuse wisps of cloud cover, lending early darkness to the evening-- and making that much more noticable the flickering refractions of campfire flames lighting up surrounding tree and rock, glittering a short span across the water.
 
 Tucked adjacent to several large rocks along the bank currently adorned with precisely organized gear-- trinkets, gadgets, and weaponry secured in simple, expertly stitched leathers-- is their presumed owner, sprawled alongside said crackling fire accompanied by bow and elegant curved blade, along with a bubbling pot of soup that fills the air with the aroma of fresh seafood. Specifically, whitefish and crab.
 
 The man himself is garbed much like his gear, from bandolier and pouch to the simple lean-to and bedroll set up-- simple, sturdy leathers. His long, midnight hair is a half-restrained tousle, still drying although the grit of the road has already been rendered a distant memory by the cool, clean waters surrounding him.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 4 months ago

As the sun retreats and the moon ascends, a blue-cloaked figure standing still upon the lake's bank stirs at last. He lowers the sypglass through which he has been peering to reveal a satisfied smile, appearing somehow refreshed despite the lateness of the day.
  "Found them," he murmurs to himself.
  Among the many delights available to tourists at Lake Gerisia, one of the most prized is the sight of an elusive Gerisian seal, the lake's de facto mascot. However, though the adorable creatures occasionally visit the cultivated lakeshore parks, they mostly keep to themselves and avoid human contact. One rumor among the locals tells that they gather at a secret and sacred place, though few agree on what is to be found there. The only consistency to the tale involves a prohibition, one of the few still mostly respected, even if it is no longer understood: that young seals must never be killed for their skins, lest the lake's wrath be incurred.
  Ivo, having lost track of Reize as usual, has sensed adventure and spent the day wandering the lake in search of where the seals might cluster. And just as the light has begun to fade, he has caught sight of a cluster of them gathered near the gnarled roots of a lakeside grove far from any popular beaches. He looks forward to reporting his finding to his party. Even if nothing comes of the venture, finding a bunch of baby seals promises to be a cute date for Reize and Ruidosa.
  He's always looking out for his friends.
  It's as the light dies that Ivo is able to see faintly glittering on the waters the reflection of a campfire, like a blotch of vivid paint dribbled on a canvas coated in moonlight. Startled and intrigued, he ventures toward where he thinks the fire might be located, not particularly stealthy as he maneuvers through the undergrowth, only for his stomach to loudly growl as he catches the scent of seafood on the breeze. He forgot how long it's been since he's eaten.
  "Ho there!" he calls cheerfully, raising a hand in salute when the noble finally catches a glimpse of the camping gentleman. "Fancy some company, sir?" He grins. He won't intrude if he's unwanted, but he's in no hurry to leave, either. "I'm afraid I've little to offer myself, unless you're interested in stories about seals."

• Character: Orilion
• 2 years, 4 months ago

"Mmn." Steely blue eyes peruse Ivo foot to face in short order at the greeting, and subsequent request. "Well, you don't /look/ like a bandit."
 
 Then again, neither do the best robbers. It's a musing borne of wary worldliness rather than overt, overactive paranoia; there's a certain fatalistic bemusement to the consideration. One might get the impression there are far easier marks. A half-gloved hand gestures to the fire, its space tucked against a rock backdrop controlling the smoke and radiant heat-- and providing ample sitting room for at least a couple more campers.
 
 Its bounty tonight includes the chowder bubbling in an iron pot hanging from a simple hook driven into the ground, and an assortment of smoked, fresh-caught fishes on a small rack. Root vegetables in a brilliant purple that aren't already chopped in the soup rest scrubbed and washed on a roll of leather.
 
 "Brilliant hunters, seals." The dark-haired ranger muses simply, perhaps possessing his own stories on such subjects. "As cunning as any fox, and pound for pound as formidable as a bear." It's somewhat askew from the typical 'SO cute! And FUZZY!'.
 
 It's easy to write the camp off as belonging to a lone mercenary-- but the equipment gathered is anything but military standard, a myriad array of metals and cultural styles adjacent to crystalline flasks and travel-bound tomes. Herbal pouches and incindieries. "Orilion." The stranger offers simply, with a nod.
 
 "Are you hungry...?" Presuming so, and perhaps correctly that this is a large chunk of what brought the wayward Ivo here, a simple wooden bowl and hunk of bread are offered over, with a nod towards the stew and smoked fish.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 4 months ago

"Ivo. I only steal hearts and good ideas," Ivo quips as he accepts the proffered bowl and bread, "and I vow to leave your heart be. Much obliged, Orilion!" He ladles himself some stew with relish, bending the hunk of bread to grip a smoked fish and forming a makeshift sandwich which he then dips into the broth before taking a bite, delight washing over his features. "Magnificent!" Were his cloak and manner of speech not indication enough, the way he proceeds to sample each comestible on its own -- drinking the broth and gobbling up the stewed vegetables, nibbling the fish from its bread nest, then dipping just some of the bread in the broth to try it -- implies the good breeding of someone who could afford to be an aesthete.
  "I had no idea," he remarks gamely. "Today is the first day I've seen a seal, as a matter of fact. I expect most visitors to Lake Gerisia are not wont to appreciate them for their hunting prowess. But then, I doubt they could prepare a meal so fine under such circumstances, either!" Ivo flatters habitually, but his eyes sparkle with an enthusiasm that can't be feigned. His curiosity is piqued by the ranger.
  As discreetly as possible, his gaze roves among the man's belongings, evidence of travels and of unusual expertise. Despite his lack of real-world experience, Ivo's book-learning and world-class education in the sciences allow him to identify at least some of Orilion's possessions. Are those-- explosives?
  "You must be quite a brilliant hunter yourself, sir," Ivo continues lightly, an almost playful tone that would suggest idle detachment were it not for his attentive gaze. "Of beasts -- and of monsters too, perhaps?" Even if he's not sure what all the equipment is, he's pretty sure at least some of it is suited for serious battles.

• Character: Orilion
• 2 years, 4 months ago

"Ah, an entrepreneur." The ranger quips dryly. There's nothing posh about the quality accruements he's collected, and it's never a reliable living hunting deadly or malignant creatures-- but preserved meat, a properly prepared hide? A broad skillset suits subsistence... even without any particularly impressive capitalistic ambitions. Orilion prepares his own bowl in similar fashion to Ivo-- though with no particular compunction about dunking whatever veggie, bread, or added fish into the chowder he pleases.
 
 "They do savor the same abundance, however." Even if the seals prefer it rawwww and wrrrrriggling. There's a soft chuckle at Ivo's further observations. Explosives, elemental charges, carefully wrapped parcels wrapped in rune-embroidered ribbon. "Brilliant might be stretching it; but someone has to do it. Particularly around here, town guards are ill equipped."
 
 Even with standing militaries in the most impressive of cities, however, bumping back against that which bumps in the night is a decidedly asymmetrical affair. It demands specialized strategies, systems, equipment; deep lore. "Between these peaceful shores and the city there's a cyclical spawning of elemental energies that could soon threaten Zerhem itself." The ranger makes no secret of his current agenda. There are too few taking such things seriously, as it is.
 
 In the crackling firelight, Orilion extends a large chunk of smoked fish to the breast of his grey cloak, and it vanishes, sharply and suddenly, within. "Though..." A wolfish grin quirks the slayer's hewn features, accompanied by a warm, if darkly humoured chuckle. "I'm not sure how much most would count blowing the lot of them up as //hunting//." These things have strange nuance, some days.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 4 months ago

Ivo listens with interest as his eyes follow the chunk of fish disappearing into the ranger's cloak, one eyebrow quirking slightly before he raises his bowl to his lips again, briefly obscuring his expression. When it lowers, he speaks.
  "Though I was unaware of this cycle you refer to, I may have encountered such a threat myself." Setting down the bowl for the moment, letting his remaining bread soak in the remaining stew within, he reaches into his own cloak to withdraw an odd device, like a skeletal music box, its obscure metal workings exposed and a glint of crystal within. "The Cosmopolitan magitech flooding the markets in Zerhem isn't likely to help matters. A merchant accidentally activated this amplifier the other day and summoned some minor water elementals. They would've grown if my party hadn't swiftly dispatched them."
  He hesitates briefly. It's in his nature to gossip, but he considers if Reize would prefer him to keep adventure-related information to himself lest they be scooped. Then, remembering the boy's generous character, he thinks better of it and smiles.
  "Perhaps you already know, but we deduced that the elementals are likely clustered at the old aqueduct between here and Zerhem. I suspect they're originating from some natural water aether deposits or cracked crystals, if the builders made use of such alchemy." His smile widens into a grin. "If you don't mind company a while longer, why not join my friends and I on an expedition there? We can go-- well, not hunting, then."
  He thinks a moment before brightening and grinning again, features pleasantly aglow in the firelight.
  "Fishing, perhaps?" Ivo has read about fishing with explosives. "Though I expect the seals would not be appreciative were we to take the term literally.”

• Character: Orilion
• 2 years, 4 months ago

"I suspect you're onto something, there." Orilion concurs with a quiet nod, spooning a particularly savory hunk of crab out of his chowder with the chunk of bread. It's enjoyed while the situation, and the information, is mulled; cross-referenced.
 
 "This region's resonance has power; once harnessed, now neglected." There's an entropic cycle to such things; perhaps some new secret of creation or restoration will yet be gleaned from the ruins, from the hazard that grows to threaten Zerhem.
 
 "If you're after the elementals occupying the acqueducts, our paths cross regardless-- and truth be told we'll both be glad for the extra firepower." It's perhaps a lofty claim for one man compared to an adventuring party; but the slayer seems quite comfortable making it.
 
 "At this point it's an... infestation. Even seriously thinning the gauntlet, it will take some doing to get near the cause of the problem; and failing that, I suspect the lair will simply repopulate." But hey, worst case scenario-- they all die buying the Zerhem Kingdom extra weeks or months before all but inevitable tragedy. No pressure.
 
 "I've started to map a course, but the road network through the area is as iffy as the ducts themselves. We'll want to time an effort for mid-day, and clear: these elementals will be most vulnerable, then." And some tools to combat them may benefit just as much from a lack of inclimate weather, and the presence of the ruthless daystar.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 4 months ago

"Then it's worse than I thought," Ivo muses, crossing his arms, his leftovers momentarily forgotten. The troubled look that passes over him as he furrows his brow, thinking of what might've happened had they marched in underprepared, gives the lie to his previous lackadaisical manner. "I have minimal experience dispensing with elementals, but if the horde can be defeated, I may be able to help diagnose and resolve whatever phenomena is birthing them."
  The insight of his new acquaintance is welcome. Heartened by Orilion's experienced words, Ivo warms up again, smiling as he remembers and takes up his bowl and the rest of his meal.
  "Then perhaps we can decamp for Zerhem together and reunite with my companions while we prepare a joint venture," he remarks in between mouthfuls of broth-sodden bread. "You'll like them, I think. We have some skilled adventurers among us -- and also our leader." The young man's eyes are amused. "Actually, I hope you'll like him most of all. Reize may not look like much, but the boy once took on a god and lived to tell the tale. Well, aspiring god, I suppose." An idea seems to strike him. "He was a hunter before he was an adventurer, I believe. I imagine he'd appreciate your guidance in refining his technique. I'm not much help in that regard, I'm afraid. Though if you need any artifacts identified... I may have read about them somewhere."
  Radiating Big NPC Support Character Energy, Ivo finishes the last of his bowl before setting it down again with a satisfied sigh.
  "Delectable!" he exclaims. "I can only look forward to your continued company, Orilion." Don't just assume he's going to keep cooking for you, Ivo.